


Trust

by Suzariah



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, OC yokai, One Shot, Past Child Abuse, Possession, Temporary Blindness, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6736267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzariah/pseuds/Suzariah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tanuma wishes he knew more about Natsume. A yokai offers to enlighten him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> It's finals week so that means I write fic instead of study, I guess.
> 
> This is my first Natsume fic hope you like it.

There are days where Tanuma feels like the distance between Natsume and him is palpable, like if he reached out a barrier would stop him from touching him. He knows it’s not real, when he finally settles into his friends company the sensation is like a distant dream, but before that initial interaction Tanuma cannot help but feel a terrible longing to belong in Natsume’s world.

He wants to understand Natsume, in the way Natsume understands him. He’s the first friend that he can talk to about all the things he’s kept secret for so long, yet Natsume refuses to do the same. Tanuma shouldn’t feel hurt; he understands that his friend is only doing it for his own safety. Yet, the helpless feeling that accompanies that fact is why he is standing where he is now.

He had been walking down his normal path to school, passing an old field when he saw it. A strange shape in the distance, but nonetheless a distinct, recognizable image. A scarecrow that had never been there before, but it looked as if it had been there forever.

It was tall, held together with straw, rope and some dirtied farmer’s clothing. It wore a hat with numerous holes and a face frozen in a smile made of straw. It would set any passerby a little uneasy, especially one familiar enough with the path to know that there had never been an old scarecrow standing there before.

He was a bit late for school, so with some unease he told himself he’d investigate when he got back. As he got closer, he realized he wouldn’t have to when his head started to pound.

“Ah, a child with spiritual energy.” The scarecrow said. Tanuma looked nervously at the yokai. It looked like a normal scarecrow, no movement; its unsettling face remained frozen as it spoke.

“So, you can hear me?” It prompted him, the sensation of it moving closer was frightening. Familiar words came to mind, reminding him of the danger so close. He had every intention of obeying Natsume’s warnings about yokai, but then… “There was another boy who could hear me as well, although I sensed his energy was not something to be taken lightly.”

It was surely Natsume. Was this his opportunity to understand?

“Another boy?” Tanuma asked it, suddenly feeling his fear give way to curiosity.

“Oh yes. Perhaps you know him? He strolled by not too long ago and his story was _so very interesting_ for someone so young.” Tanuma felt his heart pound. Natsume had definitely been here. Had he not noticed the yokai?

“I live to watch over my field. I know everything there is to know about what lies within. We all have a story to tell you see, the crops in my field all lived to tell me theirs. And so their lives are given to me to guard.”  The scarecrow remained motionless as Tanuma looked out into the field. It was fairly dried up for this time of year, it looked as though it had been overharvested.

The scarecrow continued, “Humans intrigue me; I grow tired of watching the lives of thousands of crops. But as that child stepped into my field, his footsteps told a fascinating story. Tell me boy, would you like to step into my field? May I see your story? Would you stay and listen to the tales of an old scarecrow?”

There was a feeling of hesitance, was this a betrayal of Natsume’s trust? But, he had to understand. Is this what Natsume goes through every time? Are these the kinds of experiences he has?

 And so, here he is, about to agree to whatever story this strange yokai will tell.  Perhaps the information this creature imparts will somehow close that distance between him and Natsume. Maybe he can help, maybe he’ll be closer…

“Yes.”

The yokai moves, Tanuma knows he’s made a mistake. The plain smile on the scarecrow’s face lifts into something menacing.

…

The road is quiet at night, Tanuma never realized how few people walk this path. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open for very long. Is he the only one? Someone will eventually find him right?

What would the scarecrow yokai do to him? Did it hide him? How will anyone find him if it’s a yokai that has hid him?

He doesn’t remember what happened exactly, he stepped into the grass to approach the yokai and that was it. There was a feeling of…falling.

“Tanuma?”

He searches desperately for the voice in the darkness, but he can’t seem to find it. But he has to answer. He has to…

He suddenly feels warmth on his head. A hand, checking his temperature?

“What are you doing laying in the wet grass like this? I didn’t see you at school…” The voice says, and Tanuma’s head clears.

“Is that you, Natsume?”

“Yes, can you not see? How long have you been out here?”

Lies are on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t want Natsume to know that he made the huge mistake of interacting with a dangerous yokai. After all the warnings…he’ll surely be angry. But there’s not a better person who could’ve found him, he doesn’t have time to take this kind of luck for granted. “I don’t know, but I can’t see a thing.” 

He feels the worry practically seeping off his friend and guilt settles like a rock in his stomach. He searches for words, something to say, but the truth is the only thing that comes to mind. “I…may have bumped into a strange yokai.”

The worry vibes practically explode and suddenly he feels Natsume tugging at his arm. Lifting it around his shoulder?

“I’m going to try to move you out of here, in case it comes back.” Natsume says and Tanuma’s legs don’t seem to be responding as Natsume attempts to bring him to his feet.

“Where are we right now? I don’t think I can move…”

Natsume hesitates and he feels himself being settled into sitting position, “The field we always walk by on the way to school.”

So he’s in the same spot. “You didn’t see a strange scarecrow?”

“A scarecrow yokai? No.”

Tanuma takes a deep breath, long and deep, willing the panic in his system to ebb away. “Do you know what might be wrong with my vision?”

“I’m not sure, but your eyes look strange.” He hears Natsume shuffle. There are a few moments of silence, as he waits for Natsume to elaborate. “It…looks like you’re looking at me, your eyes are open. But they’re empty and I can see that you’re not really focusing.” There’s a pause again and Tanuma tries to focus on the sensation in his eyes. Everything seems so far away, like some part of him has stepped away from the controls.  

“Can you walk?” He hears Natsume ask.

 He doesn’t think he can. His legs feel just like his eyes, distant and weightless. “Everything feels really far away. I can think of moving, but my body doesn’t seem to be cooperating.”

There’s a small huff of acknowledgment and Tanuma tries to picture the expression on Natsume’s face. The resulting image makes him feel nauseous, to think he’d completely disregarded his friend’s words.   He should’ve known better, he does know better, he —

He feels Natsume move away and Tanuma panics. “Don’t leave. It’s dark…”

 Warmth encloses reassuringly around his hand, Natsume holding it? “It’s okay, I won’t. I’m just going to call for Nyanko-sensei.”

Tanuma feels himself breathe again and tries not to focus on the darkness around him. The sound of Natsume’s shouting reassures him and he soon joins in calling for Ponta.

“No response?”

“He’s probably out drinking sake again. Useless bodyguard.”

He nearly laughs, because that’s something normal for Natsume. Imagining his cat drinking at all is amusing enough to set him at ease a little.

Natsume joins him again, kneeling at his side for a few moments. Tanuma tries to think of something to say, something to make the situation better, but Natsume beats him to it. “I’m going to try to lift you, is that alright? I’ll try to carry you to my house and then we’ll figure out what to do from there.”

Tanuma tries to picture it; Natsume carrying him. Natsume’s mental strength may be formidable, but his physical strength is certainly not up to the task. Guilt swirls in his gut, he’s going to hurt himself. He’s too thin, too delicate. Natsume can’t—

The sudden feeling of his arms being pulled over Natsume’s shoulders startles him. Then his stomach is pressing into Natsume’s back, and hands come under his legs as he’s lifted.

“N-N-Natsume you can’t carry me I’m too heavy.” He stutters, his heart feels like it’s thumping too loudly, embarrassment making him wish he could run and hide. The sensation of hair tickling his face makes it all the worse as Natsume starts walking, carrying him on his back. He’s glad he can’t see this, he’s sure he’d be overwhelmed with mortification.

There’s a small grunt as Natsume jostles him a little. He feels Natsume keeping a tight hold on his arm, securing him higher on his back. The other hand supporting his leg props him up a little higher. How Natsume can carry his deadweight like this is incredible. “It’s fine. Strange, you’re much lighter than I expected.”

“I feel lighter than usual,” Tanuma says. He feels like air, the distinct sensation that his bones have left his limbs troubles him. Maybe he’s becoming a spirit. What did the scarecrow spirit say? That he wanted Tanuma to tell him his story? Could this be some part of that?

What does the yokai get out of this.

“Maybe the yokai…sucked out my energy…or something.”

“It’s possible. I’ll call Taki when we get back, and when Nyanko-sensei gets home he’ll tell us what it is.”

Tanuma tries to nod, but his body doesn’t even respond to that.

Being carried by Natsume is surprisingly calming. He smells nice, like old books and paper. The even rise and fall of his breathing makes the darkness not so terrifying. There is an easy rhythem to his step, as if Tanuma is just a large backpack. He can’t be that light. It must be an effect of whatever curse the yokai placed on him, even the strongest of men would jostle a little. But Natsume’s steps are unburdened.

Eventually the rhythm sets his mind at ease and his mind begins to drift. Soon the image of the scarecrow appears before his eyes.

“You want to see, don’t you?” The scarecrow floats towards him, its frightening face moving closer and closer until it’s only inches away.

“See what?”

“Him. I can feel how much you want to know.” 

Where his and Natsume’s skin touch on his arm flares hot. The sensation is not unpleasant, but it’s surprising.  If he could move he would’ve jumped away.

“I can show you,” The scarecrow tells him. A small ball of light appears, Tanuma recognizes that he’s absorbed or taken something from Natsume.

“I’d rather he showed me,” Tanuma says, surprising himself. He wanted to know, he _wants_ to know, but this way isn’t it. A yokai simply secrets from him isn’t right, he can’t believe he even considered it before. “What he wants me to know is up to him.”

“But you want to know so badly.” The scarecrow’s tone is chilling. There’s a moment where Tanuma wonders if this being is evil. What satisfaction does it get from this? “What if he never tells you? What if he never trusts you enough?”

It’s a possibility Tanuma is all too familiar with, one that’s haunted him for as long as he’s known Natsume.

Tanuma swallows his fear, his desire to hear whatever it is Natsume hides. “He’ll tell me…when he’s ready. I trust him.”

“There are secrets he only knows. I’ve lived for centuries, seen many humans live and die. You’d be surprised how many take their secrets to the grave without ever voicing them. What makes you think you’d be the first he’d tell his secrets to?”

Tanuma doesn’t have an answer to that. There’s secrets he’s never voiced. He can’t blame Natsume for having them too, but he has so many it’s hard for Tanuma not to wonder, not to let his curiosity get the better of him. He just wants to be a part of his friend’s life. Especially the life that he only gives Tanuma a small glimpse of.

“I think I may just show you. His story is now a part of mine after all, and you agreed to listen to my tales, didn’t you?”

 The ball of light explodes. There’s darkness, then suddenly images come fast, like he’s reading a book. They’re hazy images, as if they are an outline of reality, but he can’t stop them.

There’s a boy sitting in front of a shrine. He’s crying, so hard it hurts. It has to, because Tanuma feels the pain in his gut and his lungs like it is his own. 

It’s raining outside. The boy will get sick; someone must be waiting for him at home. But there are monsters lingering on the borders of the shrine. The darkness fills with a thousand eyes, watching carefully. Watching and waiting for the boy’s moment of weakness.

Soon the darkness fades and rays of sunlight shine upon the child who sleeps on the steps of the shrine.  He wakes slowly, with an expression far too troubled for someone so young.

He grabs his backpack and after surveying its border, he walks away. He walks for a long time and goes to school the way normal children do. The children treat him cruelly and Tanuma wonders why he left one hell to only step into another. 

The child seems more at ease in school, though not by much. He’s jumpy and quiet. At lunch, he looks at the food with an expression Tanuma has never seen. Still, he doesn’t go to stand in line in the cafeteria, he simply moves to sit alone. None of the children seem to notice that he hasn’t eaten.

The child leaves the school alone. Tanuma expects him to go to the shrine, but instead he goes to an apartment, where a woman greets him angrily.

“Where were you last night!?” The woman demands. She grabs his wrist, far too tight for someone so small.

She drags him to a small enclosed room and nearly throws him in. She tells him that he will not receive dinner as punishment for his absence the night prior.

The boy seems disappointed, but he doesn’t complain. The boy simply grabs a book from a desk in the corner and settles into bed for the night.

Tanuma shakes himself from his mind’s eye. The scarecrow offers more, but he pulls away, forcing himself into reality. The images still flicker in his mind, images of fear, pain, and grief.  He doesn’t want to see anymore, not without Natsume’s permission. It’s not his place to know.

He can understand what the scarecrow was saying; Natsume would never share that with him willingly. Such painful memories…

His heart feels heavy; it beats too fast in his chest. He desperately wants to move. He betrayed his friend, he needs to get away from Natsume. Guilt coils tightly around his heart, he can’t bear to be so close when Natsume doesn’t know. He has to tell him, that just touching him is dangerous. Tanuma doesn’t deserve to know his secrets, not like this.

He uses all his willpower, forcing all his mental energy into moving.

His arm abruptly jerks back and he uses the opportunity to pull himself from Natsume’s grip. He hits the ground hard, just as dark skies reveal themselves above him. His vision fades back into color and he has to blink a few times to orient himself. He’s lying on the ground, Natsume’s tone sounds concerned. Tanuma feels too overwhelmed to focus. His arms don’t feel so weightless; his vision is back to normal. He’s relieved as much as he is scared.

“Tanuma I’m sorry I didn’t mean to drop you I-“

“It’s fine Natsume, I wanted you to drop me.”

Natsume looks confused and irritated, “Why? You should’ve warned me you could’ve gotten hurt.”

His chest feels tight. He wishes he could find the perfect words, but they don’t seem to exist. “I- The yokai was inside my mind…and it was showing me things...Things about you.”

Natusume’s eyebrows raise, “What about me?”

There’s so much. So much pain. The scarecrow didn’t just show him Natsume’s past, it placed him inside it. Natsume’s pain is so deep, Tanuma can’t even begin to understand. He thought they were alike, that their pasts could be a point of similarity, that their burdens were not so different. He thought he could carry some of it with Natsume, but Tanuma knows now that he’s not strong enough to exist in the same world; Natsume’s burden is so much more than just a few yokai.

Tanuma’s scared if he doesn’t keep himself in the moment the images will start up again. He can’t meet Natsume’s eyes. “You were just a kid, yokai were causing you problems.” Tanuma tells him, but his expression must give away the truth. It feels like a lie, he hopes Natsume can tell. It’s what happened, but Natsume sadness wasn’t because monsters bothered him at night. The pain he experienced was something completely different. 

Tanuma feels Natsume’s eyes on him. “You’re acting like you’re guilty of something, Tanuma.” His eyes meet Natsume’s again, and surprisingly there’s a gentle smile on his friend’s face. “It’s okay, if you know about me.”

“But I asked the yokai to show me! Before…the only reason I’m in this position is because the yokai said he help me understand you, but I should have just asked you instead!”

Natsume shakes his head. Then, gently he says, “It’s okay, Tanuma. It doesn’t bother me if you know.  I trust you.”

 Trust. Tanuma feels a huge weight lifts from his shoulders. His fears, his insecurities…they suddenly don’t seem so incurable. He never realized how badly he needed to hear Natsume just say that he trusted him. He breathes a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”

Natsume offers him a hand. “It’s not that I don’t want you to know things about me, I just…can’t always talk about them.”

Tanuma nods. He understands and takes his friend’s hand.

The rest of the way to Natsume’s house goes a little differently. He still can’t walk quite right. His legs don’t respond how they’re supposed to, but they don’t feel how they did before. Tanuma leans heavily into Natsume, but he doesn’t allow Natsume to carry him. The idea of actually being carried by Natsume while completely aware is far too embarrassing for him to handle.

The Fujiwaras aren’t home when they arrive, so Natsume just helps him into the kitchen and sets him on a chair.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

“I’m okay.” Tanuma says. It’s an understatement, he feels more than okay. The feeling of relief is still there, despite the seriousness of the situation. Not only that, be he does feel closer to Natsume somehow, not because he saw into his past, but because of Natsume himself. Somehow Natsume figured out what he needed to hear.

Still, they do need to deal with the yokai problem, before Tanuma accidentally gets another peek into Natsume’s past.“I think this yokai is possessing me.”

Natsume tenses, but then settles beside him, a forced smile on his face, “Possession again? Maybe you need a yokai bodyguard too.”

They both laugh, though Natsume’s sounds terribly fake. He’s still concerned and without Ponta in the vicinity they don’t have any leads.

“I think I’ll call Taki.” Natsume tells him.

“That sounds like a good idea.”

The call is short. They put her on speaker, Taki seems to have a suspicion of what it is almost immediately.

“I don’t know about possession, but it sounds like a Kuebiko, I read about it, it’s a god of agriculture. You said it looked like a scarecrow right?” Taki says when they reach her. They caught her in-between packing for a trip she’s taking for school.

“Yeah.”

“There’s a few other yokai it could be. You guys will have to wait until I get home tomorrow morning.  Jeez Tanuma, how’d you manage to get possessed again?”

Her exasperation makes him laugh. He knows she’s worried too, the fact that her joking is in the same tone as Natsume’s doesn’t elude him. “I’ll tell you when you get back, have fun on your trip!”

“Yeah I will, be careful.” She says before the line goes dead.

“A kuebiko. Never heard of it,” Tanuma says lightly.  

Natsume nods, “Hopefully it’s not a powerful god.”

There’s a determined set to his eyes and he knows that Natsume’s formulating a plan.

“Let’s go upstairs. I’ll help you.”

Tanuma swallows nervously at the prospect of stairs with the way his legs are working, but he agrees.

He ends up being half carried, half dragged up the steps, with Natsume supporting half and Tanuma pulling himself along. It could’ve been worse, but he’s glad it’s just Natsume in the house. Ponta would probably taunt him on how weak he is.

“You seemed to recover a little after you had a vision of me, right?”

Tanuma hesitates, “Yes.”

“This...kuebiko. It showed you my past and that’s it?”

“…Yes.” Tanuma doesn’t like where this is going.

“Did it ask anything of you?”

Tanuma thinks back to the beginning, what it asked of him. To share his story and listen to the scarecrow’s own. A simple favor, but…

“It said he wanted me to share a story and listen when he told his.”

Natsume nods, “Did you think that was a lie?”

Tanuma remembers believing the scarecrow up until the last moment of awareness. “No. Not really.”

“Do you think…I could communicate with it?”

Tanuma is suddenly overcome with the sensation of falling. Falling into his own consciousness. He’d forgotten what this felt like, how out of control he felt. Even more so now, with Natsume sitting helpless across from him and a possibly dangerous yokai Tanuma let take control.

He hears the yokai speak with his body, “Hello, pitiful human.”

Tanuma fights against the yokai. It feels so much more powerful than the last. The force pushing against him in his own mind was moveable before, this seems more like a brick wall standing in his way.

“Please stop tormenting my friend. He did you no harm,” Natsume says calmly.

“He must fulfill a promise to me first, he said he would listen, but he has not. He rejected me immediately and I was willing to even tell him a story he wanted to hear. That is not a courtesy I usually offer, but he refused to stay even stay for that much. Naturally a broken word should receive punishment.”

“What do you mean?” Natsume’s head tilts as he regards the yokai harshly “Why couldn’t you have just told him your story? You didn’t need to possess or blind him.”

“My stories are what I can see from my post. The earth tells me in motion and image what I need to know. Life gives these things its color and emotion. Words will sully the earth’s fine lyric. Humans don’t have a connection unless they can see how I see, or feel how I feel,” The yokai replies, its voice sounds ancient even in Tanuma’s tone.

“How about you show _me_ this story instead? It can be whatever you like.”

No…No, no, no. Tanuma pushes against the yokai, trying to get back his control. But it’s like he’s a merely a fly, his efforts are easily swatted away.

“That is acceptable.”

There’s a silence, and Tanuma feels his body move without his permission. The yokai moves his hands to Natsume. His friend remains motionless and any belief Tanuma had control is wiped out when he feels his hands reach Natsume’s face.

“I will show you.”

Images start to flow, like they were before. They’re flowing around him, in small outlines and colors. Tanuma sees soil. It starts out as a small plot, but then it grows into a garden. With time a great farmland covers the expanse of land, and a wooden post stands at its front. The plants come and go, farmers change hands. Soon the post takes shape and a human like figure stands at its front.  The yokai’s voice echoes in his mind, as if it was narrating.

“I must impart the stories of my field before I move to the next. Many lives bloomed and withered in my care.”

Great crops are harvested from the field, the families are fed. The farmers grow old and die. Some die on the land, their body and spirit seeps into the soil and feed the crop. Others sell and new families move in. Slowly, flowers begin to bloom in place of fruit and vegetables. Soon the land is no longer harvested, but humans still come and go, walking among pretty flowers and small animals that call the land their home.

 “It’s beautiful.” Tanuma hears himself say. The history of the land is rich and pure. He feels like he’s travelling back in time.

The scarecrow remains throughout the years; eventually the plants that die don’t return with the passing seasons. The scarecrow speaks with the earth and says both greetings and goodbyes to every life that comes its way, whether they be plant or animal. Humans come by, no one notices him except for one girl…

The sound of a clap interrupts the image. Tanuma snaps out of the yokai’s flashbacks to see Natsume gently blow into a piece of paper.

“Thank you child. I would have returned him once the story was complete anyway, I did not expect this back, but I am glad I did not have to leave without it.” The yokai says.

Natsume nods, looking exhausted. There’s a small smile on his lips, “Thank you for the story, it was interesting.”

Suddenly, Tanuma jolts back into control over his body.

“Natsume? What did you do?”

Natsume wavers, his body leaning heavily on his hands. “Gave him back something he lost.” He tips back and loses his balance. Tanuma lurches forward, reaching to catch him.

“What’s wrong?”

Natsume blinks slowly, “It’s nothing, just tired. This always happens after I—I’ll be fine, I just need to sleep. Can you move okay?”

Tanuma checks himself, he feels normal. “Yeah, I’m as good as new.” 

“Good…I’m kind of glad…I got to see his story...” Natsume says, his words ending in an exhausted slur.

Tanuma laughs remembering, “Me too.”

Tanuma moves to grab Natsume a pillow and a blanket. After settling him into a comfortable position, “Sleep well, Natsume.”

He sits beside him, a feeling of awe filling him. The things they saw together today, the ones the yokai showed them, are images only they will ever know.


End file.
